


Derek Hates Bunnies

by KaliopeShipsIt



Series: Alliteration-Verse [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Costume Kink Gone Wrong, Derek Loves Stiles Anyway, Lack of Communication, M/M, Manipulative Peter, Sassy Erica, The Pack Has Bad Advice
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-15
Updated: 2014-04-15
Packaged: 2018-01-19 11:27:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,965
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1467778
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KaliopeShipsIt/pseuds/KaliopeShipsIt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When asking one's Pack for advice in a quest to make Derek the happiest and most sexually satisfied Alpha there ever was, one should never go with Peter's suggestion. </p><p>Stiles finds out the hard way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Derek Hates Bunnies

**Author's Note:**

> Please do not put my stuff on Goodreads. I was not aware that part of my stories were on there and I am not comfortable with having my fan fics circulated out of my control. 
> 
>  
> 
> This is a short little One-Shot based on a line from my story "Dressed to the Nines".

All things considered, Stiles thought his life was pretty much perfect. Derek had finally come to his senses and succumbed to his charms, his father had ceased to threaten legal action once Stiles had turned 18 a couple of months ago, his friends were supportive of his relationship, and he was ‘getting sexed’ on an almost daily basis – his term, not Derek’s.

Stiles was terrified it was going to end. It would have just been his luck. This was Beacon Hills after all, the town where no one could relax for too long.

Therefore, he was determined to invest as much as possible into his relationship – although he was still not quite sure if they actually were in a relationship, as there had been a suspicious lack of the L-Word so far, even after almost five months.

Not that Stiles had been counting the days. Or had had one or two minor freak-outs about emotionally constipated Alphas.

Nope, not at all – although he would always be grateful for Scott and his gallon of cherry-pistachio ice cream on that one night of epic overanalyzing that they had both vowed to never speak of again.

He had, admittedly, jumped to a couple of rather wild conclusions.

To his credit, Scott had listened patiently, and when Stiles had been raiding the McCall’s freezer on the hunt for bagel dogs a week later, there had been one gallon of cherry-pistachio ice cream and one gallon of white-chocolate macadamia ice cream sitting in the freezer.

Just in case.

There was definitely a reason that Scott was his best friend.

Nevertheless, since Stiles considered it a bit creepy to make Derek love him, he was at least determined to make Derek happy.

Also, he was quite sure that happiness could eventually lead to passionate declarations of love.

Sadly, Derek tended to be a Silent Wolf when it came to his feelings, perfectly comfortable with letting Stiles figure out what he wanted instead of just telling him.

Stiles was becoming better at distinguishing between say Sour Face Number 5 (“Shut up Stiles”) or Sour Face Number 13 (“There is no universe in which Captain America beats Iron Man”), however, he was man enough to acknowledge that he might need some help in his quest to make Derek even happier.

A few interrogations were definitely in order.

 

*****************

 

“How the heck should I know if Derek secretly wishes for you to take more initiative? As far as I’m concerned, you guys are holding hands and that’s it!”

Isaac was looking at Stiles like he had just introduced him to his personal nightmare. Stiles sighed.

“Listen, I need answers people. Derek could doom every late night talk show to cancellation if he’d be invited as a guest, that’s how talkative he is on a good day. You are his Betas, you have to share your wisdom with me!”

Boyd shook his head.

“Hard as it may be to believe, he talks to us even less than he talks to you. And that’s after you subtract the time you guys spend glued to each others lips and genitals.”

The large Beta got up, clearly done with the conversation.

“Oh come on!” Stiles whined, desperately looking to Erica for answers.

The blonde werewolf snickered. “Would you like some cheese and crackers with that whine?” she asked, before jumping down from the kitchen counter that she had been perched on and patting his shoulder.

“It’s really not all that difficult, Stiles. Derek is pretty basic. He sniffs, he growls, he pounces. His approach is more primal than romantic, really. Just go wear his sweaty shirts, roll around in his sheets, and soak up his smell so that you’ll always smell of the two of you. That’ll keep him so happy he won’t know what to do with himself.”

Stiles grimaced. “That sounds a little gross, to be honest.”

Erica grinned. “You could always get naked and let him chase you through the forest. His wolf will be thrilled and once he catches you, you can sweat all over each other, soak up each other’s pheromones, and he will howl in ecstasy.”

Stiles ignored Isaac’s pained whimper in the background.

“Still gross, plus I’ll probably be scratched all over if I run through the forest naked. Any other suggestions?”

Erica scrunched up her face as she thought.

“Well, if you don’t want to exert yourself too much, how about this. You lie still and let him mark you all over. Once he’s done you can thoroughly rub his come into your skin and never shower again, making sure that everyone can smell who you belong to.”

The look Isaac threw at the female Beta as he fled the kitchen screamed of betrayal and trauma.

“This is not helping.” Stiles complained, grabbing his coat and preparing to leave Erica and her disturbing body fluid fetish alone.

“Dude was born a werewolf, what did you expect?” she yelled after him in amusement.

Stiles made a mental note to get her a smaller gift for Christmas this year.

He sighed dramatically. He had hoped to avoid Peter, but obviously he needed to get his information from someone who knew Derek longer and was also more familiar with the needs of born werewolves.

 

*******************

 

“Just so that I understand this correctly. You are currently trying to enlist my help for romancing my nephew more effectively, yes?” 

Peter looked as if Christmas and his birthday had come early this year. Stiles did not like that look at all. Sadly, he was pretty desperate.

“You do realize that this is a bit awkward and possibly a little inappropriate, right?”

Stiles nodded emphatically. “I absolutely do and in fact, as soon as I walk out of here I will pretend that this conversation has never happened. And I will be successful, because I am the King of Denial, but right now, I could really use some actually useful advice for a change. Preferably one that does not include the unnecessary smearing of body fluids.”

Peter chuckled. “Yes, well, I don’t know where Erica is getting her information about werewolf sex fetishes, but she might be projecting her own desires regarding the hot stoic one onto my nephew just a tad too much.”

“No kidding!” Stiles exclaimed, worrying at his hands and wiggling his legs as he tried to find a comfortable place on Peter’s designer couch. How he was able to afford it without having a job – well, at least as far as the rest of the pack was concerned – remained a mystery to Stiles. It was a mystery that he probably should not investigate any further.

“One of her suggestions did have some validity, though.” Peter mused, his long finger tapping against his chin as he thought.

“The idea of chasing you down would definitely appeal to his wolf, however, we all know it would be a fairly short chase and he might actually get a little too excited for you to handle, so that’s out, _but_ …”

He trailed off, looking Stiles up and down in a way that was just a tad creepy and did nothing to calm Stiles’ nerves about the awkwardness of the whole situation in general. His heart sped up and he cursed internally, knowing that Peter would probably pick up on it and quite possibly draw the wrong conclusions.

Judging by the look on his face, he already had.

“But if you were to – how shall I put this – appeal to his predatory instincts, stimulate him with some … ah … visual help so to speak, it could definitely have the effect you are looking for.”

Stiles’ brows drew together in suspicion.

“Yes, well, I want romance, not dismemberment, so maybe the whole predatory part is really not that necessary?”

He loved Derek, he really did, but trusting him to have complete control over himself when faced with wolfy overstimulation? So not happening.

Peter sighed dramatically. “You asked, didn’t you?”

He rolled his eyes and made a tut-tut sound at Stiles, who responded by giving Peter his best “I’m Derek Hale and I am seriously unimpressed with you right now” impression.

The exasperated expression on Peter’s face suddenly turned into a dangerous smirk.

“As it turns out, I might just have found the perfect website for this the other day, let me get my laptop!”

Stiles winced. He really did not need to know anything about Peter’s Internet history.

Fate, however, had other ideas.

As far as Stiles was concerned, fate could kiss his ass.

 

******************

 

A week after the most awkward conversation and afternoon of looking at dubious websites in the history of awkward, the package Stiles had been waiting for finally arrived in the mail.

He had been completely stressed out over trying to be home before his dad every single afternoon so that he could check the mail first. After all, Stiles was pretty sure all his good groundwork of putting his father on a healthy diet to protect his heart would have been shot to hell the moment the Sheriff would have found a package from the reputable “Bouncing Bottoming Bunnies” company addressed to his only son.

Clutching the pink parcel to his chest he raced up the stairs. He locked his bedroom door, tore open the package and hurriedly stripped down to try on the outfit, which, according to Peter, would make Derek the happiest Alpha werewolf on the planet.

His optimism deflated when he caught sight of himself in the mirror. On a scale of 1 to 10, with 1 being “Extremely hot, let me devour you” and 10 being “Can’t decide if this is embarrassing or horrifying, either way, I am never touching you again”, he currently ranked a 9.

9.5 if he put on the sadly flopping bunny ears.

The bunny-costume Peter had coaxed him into buying was a one-piece pink spandex suit with a v-neck that essentially went down all the way to his happy trail and covered only half of his butt cheeks. There was a little plushy bunny-tail sown directly over his butt and every time Stiles moved he could feel the plush brushing against his naked skin.

Stiles sighed when he realized that there was no way he was going to be able to pull off sexy-confident bunny when he felt utterly pathetic in the outfit to begin with. Unless Derek had a thing for sad, floppy-eared bunnies, which had given up on life and ever being loved in return, the evening was destined to turn into a complete disaster.

For a moment he contemplated throwing the atrocity into the garbage container and erasing it from his memory altogether, but he was almost positive that Peter would start dropping casual hints about bunnies and carrots soon and Stiles really did not want to explain to Derek why he had enlisted his murderous uncle as relationship advisor.

His phone suddenly buzzed with a text from Derek and Stiles tried to feel positive when he responded that yes, he was coming over tonight.

Praying to whichever deity was willing to listen, Stiles put on his longest coat to make sure no one would see the Sheriff’s son driving half-naked through the town and headed outside.

If this didn’t work he would definitely have to come up with a variety of creative ways to torment Peter.

 

****************

 

In retrospect, Stiles should have realized that when Derek had said tonight, he did not mean right the moment after he had sent the text. He would have, probably, had he not been so determined to get this over with.

He probably also should have knocked, rather than just use his key and barge into the loft, foregoing any attempt at a sexy entrance in his mounting anxiety.

As it was, he walked straight into a heated debate between Derek and Erica.

Both werewolves stopped in their tracks when they caught sight of him, their mouths dropping open in complete and utter shock.

For a long, terrible moment, nobody said anything.

As the silence stretched on, and the look on Derek’s face increasingly resembled that of a man debating all of his previous life choices, Stiles’ terrified brain supplied him with a rather unhelpful running commentary on which pack-member he would have chosen, had he been forced to share his humiliation with anyone besides his boyfriend.

Boyd, definitely Boyd; the man probably wouldn’t have said anything and just excused himself politely.

Isaac would have probably fled the scene in a panic and Stiles thanked his lucky stars, albeit for different reasons, that neither Scott nor Lydia were here to witness this scene.

However, both of them would have still been a better option than Erica, who seemed to have shaken off her initial shock and was starting to grin manically.

If Peter had looked like Christmas and his birthday had come early when he had gotten Stiles into this mess, Erica looked like she had just been gifted with a winning lottery ticket in a chocolate Easter egg on a cruise to the Caribbean during a joint Christmas/Birthday/Halloween appreciation party.

She had barely opened her mouth, however, when Derek suddenly flashed his Alpha eyes at her and snarled: “Go! Now!”

Stiles could tell that Erica was not at all interested in obeying her Alpha’s order, however, her instincts gave her no choice but to sulk out of the apartment, eyes nevertheless sparkling with delight and mischief.

If Stiles had found it in himself to care at that very moment, he would have probably been a little concerned about how Erica might exploit this rather unfortunate encounter between him and his boyfriend.

As it was, all of his concern was currently focused on whether he still had a boyfriend, because Derek looked like he was in actual physical pain. His eyebrows and the corners of his mouth were beginning to twitch and Stiles was about to back away slowly, figuring that he had definitely triggered some werewolf-hunting-instinct alright, when Derek suddenly threw his head back and started laughing.

Stiles had heard multiple howls coming from Derek in their time together, ranging from authoritative Alpha howls to reign in his pack to orgasm-appreciative howls during sex, but he had never heard Derek howling with hysterical laughter.

It wasn’t that he was unhappy to see this side of Derek – to find out that this side actually existed, to be more precise – but it had really not been the reaction he had been hoping for.

He forced himself to smile invitingly when Derek came closer, shoulders still shaking, and began to tug at his floppy ears.

“Stiles…” Derek gasped between fits of laughter, “What in the world is this?”

Stiles slapped Derek’s hands away from his poor, manhandled bunny ears and stubbornly crossed his arms over his pretty much naked chest.

“This is me seducing you, Derek. Stop laughing!”

This time Derek actually had to hold on to one of the beams in his loft to keep himself from falling to the floor.

Stiles tried to give him his most annoyed look and Derek visibly tried to calm himself, albeit with limited success.

“I don’t … I mean I … Stiles … why?!” Derek finally got out and Stiles sighed and took off his bunny ears with a huff of resignation.

“I’m going to kill your uncle,” he muttered and Derek’s eyebrows almost flew off the top of his head.

“What does Peter have to do with this?” he asked incredulously and Stiles gave him a pained smile.

“Let’s just say that Peter’s advice sucks and forget this ever happened. Please?”

Derek coughed, trying for a serious expression, which was somewhat diminished by the fact that tears of laughter were still pooling in his eyes.

“So, for reasons that I probably don’t even want to know, you went to Peter who told you to surprise me with a bunny suit. It is supposed to be a bunny, right?

Stiles hid his rapidly reddening face in his hands while he nodded. He felt ridiculous and disappointed, and when he muttered “I just wanted to make you happy,” it came out a little more vulnerable than he had been going for.

Derek sobered immediately. He crossed the space between them with two steps and gently tugged Stiles’ hands away from his face, cupping his chin and raising his face so that he could look him in the eye.

“One never listens to Peter’s advice,” he declared, before leaning in for a soft kiss. His thumbs were stroking Stiles’ cheeks in a loving manner and Stiles relaxed into Derek’s embrace. He was about to wrap his arms around Derek when he suddenly felt cold. Well, colder, given that the costume really hadn’t done much in terms of keeping him warm in the first place.

It took him a second to realize that he was standing in Derek’s arms completely naked and when he looked down, he could see Derek’s claws retracting.

“Derek?” Stiles asked and Derek grinned.

“I don’t like bunnies,” he said, before dragging Stiles to the bed and rather unceremoniously tackling him to the mattress.

“Much better,” he murmured into Stiles’ mouth, before his mouth trailed southwards and when his lips wrapped around the younger man’s quickly growing erection, Stiles found that he had to agree.

When he had envisioned Derek’s reaction to the bunny seduction, Stiles had imagined Derek to be rough and animalistic while pounding him into the mattress, but instead his boyfriend was moving slowly and gently.

Stiles swallowed audibly when Derek reached for the lube on the bedside table and slipped a finger inside himself, his gaze never leaving Stiles’, the look in his eyes warm, affectionate, and aroused.

It took all of Stiles’ self-control not to come right then and there, when he realized that, for the first time, Derek was actually going to be the one riding him, and he reached up to grab Derek’s face, pulling him into a deep kiss. Meanwhile, Derek had added a second finger and when he arched his back and panted into Stiles’ mouth, Stiles’ hand slipped down to gently cradle Derek’s balls.

“Are you sure?” he asked and Derek smiled against Stiles’ mouth, lifting himself up enough so that they could make eye contact. “You said you wanted to make me happy?” he whispered in return and Stiles nodded breathlessly. “Good – I’ve wanted this for a long time,” Derek sighed and then moaned, when he added a third finger.

They never broke eye contact when Derek slowly lowered himself onto Stiles’ shaft, moving inch by inch until they were practically welded together. Derek’s movements were controlled as he began to move his hips, his muscular thighs straddling Stiles’ waist with iron strength and Stiles grabbed onto the solid flesh, enjoying the rippling of the muscles and the warm tightness around his erection. Derek placed his hands on Stiles’ chest for leverage and picked up his pace, his eyes hooded with pleasure and his mouth open as he let out quiet little gasps. His own penis was straining against his belly and Stiles reached for it, his grip somewhat shaky and uncoordinated, but he did manage a couple of firm strokes that were enough to send Derek over the edge, his whole body shuddering and clenching as he came all over Stiles’ chest. His head was thrown back and his eyes were clenched shut and it was this display of trust that brought on Stiles’ own orgasm.  He arched up into Derek as he came with a soft cry.

Derek’s fingers were tracing soft circles on his come-smeared abdomen and once he had regained his breath Stiles chuckled, still feeling a little lightheaded. “Erica said you would be into this,” he said and Derek raised his eyebrows.

“Just how many people did you pester for sexual advice?” he asked and chuckled softly when Stiles turned bright red.

“A few, maybe?” he murmured and Derek shook his head, a loving smile brightening up his features. He placed a soft kiss onto Stiles’ chest before he gently lifted himself up and off of him, reaching for tissues to clean them up.

When he was done Stiles rolled onto his side and Derek mirrored him, propping his head up on his arm while the other began to trace lazy circles over Stiles’ side. He was still smiling, but there was a look of seriousness in his eyes.

“You know that I love you, right? You don’t need to ask the pack what makes me happy – trust me, you already know.”

Stiles could feel his heart flutter in his chest and he gave Derek a watery smile, his hand reaching down to intertwine his fingers with Derek’s.

“I love you,” he said, enraptured with the radiant smile on Derek’s face, as the werewolf had obviously been listening to his heartbeat as he said it.

“That finally being said, I do think we need to communicate more efficiently,” Stiles added some time later and Derek chuckled.

“Without the pack’s help?” he asked and Stiles laughed.

“Yep – definitely without the pack’s help.”

 

******************

 

When Stiles walked into school the next day, Scott, Allison, Erica, Boyd, Jackson, Lydia, and Isaac were all waiting for him at his locker, not even trying to hide their smirks, the snickering, and the lewd glances – Erica – directed towards him. Stiles sighed. He should have known Erica could not have passed up this particularly juicy opportunity to spread gossip.

Sometimes he really hated his life.

Trying to fight the maddening blush in his cheeks, Stiles sighed and opened his locker to take out his book for the Coach’s class.

At least that had been the plan.

As soon as he opened the locker, carrots in all shapes and sizes came tumbling out of the small space.

How the pack had managed to fit this many carrots in there and then actually close the door Stiles would never know.

Behind him, the snickering turned into loud laughter.

Stiles flushed an even deeper red as he glared at his so-called friends.

Scott, the traitor, was shaking so hard with laughter that he had to lean against the wall and Jackson’s smirk had never been meaner. Isaac was scratching his ears as he grinned, his cheeks flushing just the tiniest bit. Lydia and Allison were obviously torn between laughing and rolling their eyes at him, and Erica was busy trying to high-five Boyd, whose normally stoic face was twitching, as if he was trying to hide a smile.

Stiles spontaneously decided that none of them were getting a Christmas present this year.

He looked back down at the pile of carrots at his feet, when he was suddenly hit by an epiphany.

He took a closer look at the pile, comparing girth and sizes of the carrots and finally selected the one that reminded him of Derek the most.

Brandishing the carrot like a weapon he turned back to the still laughing pack, making sure that he had their undivided attention before he slowly lifted the carrot to his mouth.

He raised his eyebrow in a way that would have rivaled Derek, flashed the confused Betas a smirk – and deep-throated the carrot.

Making small moaning noises of pleasure in the back of his throat.

They were too quiet for human ears to pick up on – but just the right volume for evil little werewolves.

The laughter stopped abruptly.

Isaac looked like he wanted to cry.

Scott and Jackson looked like they were about to throw up.

Boyd and Erica had frozen in their high fives, their mouths hanging open.

Allison had clapped her hands over her mouth, not quite hiding the way its corners had stretched out into a wide smile.

Lydia was giving him the thumbs up.

Stiles reconsidered.

His life, after all, was really quite perfect.


End file.
